


I have no eyes, I have no love, I have no hope

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2655257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex has known where Amy is for a long time, but he still doesn't know <i>what</i> she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I have no eyes, I have no love, I have no hope

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from baths' "no eyes" which i listened to on repeat along with "ocean death" as i wrote this

The cold bites at his exposed fingers, but he won't be out here long. Alex aims his flashlight at the trees and waits for the goosebumps and the anxiety that means he isn't alone. The forest mumbles around him with the freezing wind but the sleepy rustling of leaves and creatures in the bushes don't fool him.

And, _there._ In the branches. He lowers his flashlight, and the trees seem to part as it comes for him. It sucks the air right out of his lungs and he gags, trying not to cough. Coughing excites it. Tonight he needs it for only a while.

“Lead me to Amy,” Alex says. It is standing in front of him, and he welcomes its looming stare. He buries his instincts that tell him to flee, surprise they even work anymore, as he raises his head to look at it, at the white surface of its head. He has come to understand it as its own camera, as some otherworldly lens recording his torment.

His vision blurs, and, in seconds, he is deep in the woods. Around him, the night is thick and buzzing, and his guide is gone just as quickly as it arrived. 

He finds a stump to sit on, and waits for Amy.

She always knows when he's here. He wouldn't be able to explain it, but he understands, now, why it is called the Operator. Amy is beyond what she was before, what Alex is now, and she is so beautiful out here, operating in connection to the forest and the universe in ways that are too incredible for words. There is only one symbol worthy of her and the Operator.

He hears twigs snapping under a heavy weight and birds scattering from their nests, and he knows she is here. His heart speeds up, and he goes to stand up to greet her but trips. He falls to his knees and stays there, head bowed.

Amy slithers out from the cold darkness. The wind picks up around him, whistling through the branches. Her body is ten times as long as his, and it stretches behind her, winding across the forest floor. There are limbs sprouting out from every surface they can, coming out of her stomach and her skull and even off other arms. Some are frail and colorless except for blue veins that stand out against the pale skin, and some are as thick as the trees and make the earth vibrate when they touch the ground.

Her blonde hair reaches her shoulders, or the first set of shoulders, and her eyes are a lovely red. Always red, always bleeding, always so beautiful. The mouth that takes up most of her face never closes, and she howls and howls and _howls_ like the frigid wind.

When he gave her up to the Operator, he never expected to have her back like this.

She, a twisting, gnarled mesh of flesh and hair, too extraordinary for someone like Alex, comes to a stop before him.

“Amy,” he coos. “Oh, Amy.”

Like fingers, chills run up his spine. There are fingers colder than the sharp air at his throat, there are fingers that bring the winter under his skin, there are fingers pressed against his eyes. He has missed Amy so much, and he knows she must have missed him.

On their first date, she told him he had very expressive eyes. He would give them up for her.

He imagines she tells him she loves him, because she can't form words. She can only scream bloody murder, and he can only mimic her.


End file.
